and the third is an apology
by taco's bell
Summary: Sometimes, there's places one can't follow. DemonHunter! Verse.


**NOTE: **Quick drabble for some awesome people on tumblr. I'm working on two more requests and then I'll update _Too Sharp._ Might take a little longer cause of Disneyland. :) I ain't got the time for thoughtful summaries.

* * *

"You shouldn't be here," Rivaille snaps when blood lands on the side of his face, glaring at the dirty mess. At his side, Eren only laughs, handing Rivaille back the sword he stole. Rivaille scowls, holding the sword at a distance.

"You got it dirty," he drawls. Eren shrugs.

"You and Mikasa are better at the clean kills. Where is she anyways?" The boy asks, shaking his head to throw off the blood. Rivaille edges away, frowning at the mention of Mikasa.

"She left," he answers curtly, kicking the corpse into the train tracks in front of them.

"Eh? But we were a team," Eren says, and Rivaille notes the past tense, sighs.

"Well," Eren starts, leaning over to drape his arms over the corporal's shoulders, "I think she just didn't like seeing us together." The boy stares at the other's lips, hesitates like Rivaille was some fragile thing, before pressing his lips against Rivaille's. _Disgusting_, Rivaille thinks, as the boy gets blood into his hair, but he tolerates it for a moment. Shoves the boy away a moment later.

"I think anyone would be jealous really."

"Don't get cocky, brat," Rivaille says, even as he reaches for the cuffs of Eren's sleeves, tugging him along.

* * *

"You've been doing this longer than me, you _know," _Mikasa says, anger marring her brow. Rivaille says nothing, stares out the window, chin in hand.

"And you're still sitting there, like it doesn't matter," she continues, disgusted, and when she stands up the chair screeches against the floor.

"It doesn't have to matter," he says, "or do you want me to exterminate your childhood friend?"

"He's not Eren," Mikasa answers, though her voice wavers. "You know this." No, he doesn't.

"You _know_ what it has to do to survive," Mikasa says.

He glares up at her finally, "So you're willing to end _it._"

"No," Mikasa says, "no, don't you dare ask me that. But I can't stay on this team any longer, not with him here, and not with him gone." She takes her blade, throws it on the table. If Rivaille is hurt he doesn't show it.

"He said when you were kids you planned to follow him everywhere. To keep him safe."

She stills from where she had been leaving, turns her head back to glare at him. "If you had done your job properly, I wouldn't have to." Rivaille narrows his eyes.

Her features soften immediately, fingers almost crushing the doorknob. "Besides, he's gone where I can't follow." In her words and his silence, two hearts struggle to breathe. One of them has already died.

* * *

Rivaille brews the coffee, trying to keep his thoughts off inevitability. It has already stolen Mikasa, stolen countless team mates, stolen everyone and everything. Today is another loss, he can taste it.

"I'm home!" Eren calls out, and Rivaille does not ask him where he goes off every night, he must not know. "Are you making coffee for me?" Lips at his ear, teasing, before disappearing.

"No," Rivaille says, grabs the mug on the table for the coffee. He hesitates briefly before pouring the coffee in. Eren scoffs, shoving open the curtains for the sun to enter.

He turns around to tell the boy off, but when he sees Eren he stills, eyes wide. Eren notices, blinks, stepping closer to the corporal in concern.

"What?" Eren asks, tilting his head to the side curiously and the sunlight outlines the scars on his neck, the mark of the first death. Near the collar bone, the slight mangled flesh where something had gnawed, the mark of the second death, but he's still standing _right there, _close enough to kiss the wound (_nothumannotErennothuman, standing right there but someone's missing)_. Rivaille's eyes flicker away, swallowing thickly.

"Nothing," he snaps, stirs the coffee, the mark of the third.

"Don't be so stingy, Corporal," Eren chuckles, snatches the mug away from Rivaille's fingers. "We both know you don't like coffee." The boy sips tentatively, pauses, like the beverage was too hot, eyes glancing up at Rivaille's. A despised silence, and then he downs the whole thing.

One: Rivaille was supposed to cover Eren, he was supposed to be standing right fucking there, and he was. He was, close enough that he could brush his fingers against the boy's arm. He was close enough to stop the beast (it was too intelligent, they all were now) from jumping on top of the boy, claws slashing slashing slashing, until it didn't miss. Close enough to save the boy from a horribly painful way to go.

"Eren!"

He didn't. _Failure._

Two: Rivaille was supposed to get rid of the HollowMan quickly, without hesitation for that was all the thing needed. He was the best of the best, it was his job. The demon fed off corpses it usually dug up from gravesites, or it made new ones. Rivaille wasn't supposed to hesitate. He saw the huge hulking back and heard the gross sound of it feeding.

"Hey, bitch," he started, twisting the blade in his fingers as a warning, "making me tread around in this dirty place. You're just begging to get killed." The thing's head snapped back, twisted around with inhuman speed, jaws snapped around the poor sodding corpse's neck. Rivaille faltered. (They never told him where they buried Eren, he didn't want to know).

The demon dropped its finding, jumped away, but Rivaille was already there, furious. He made sure the thing suffered, painfully and slowly. Filthy vermin. He froze when he heard it. The sound of something choking. He turned around, hesitated above Eren's body. The bite wound was healing itself, probably infecting the rest of the body, and Rivaille grimaced at the mangled flesh, raised his blade. He was supposed to prevent the change.

"Eren."

He didn't. _Failure._

Three: The poison is an apology.

Eren chokes, grabbing his head with both hands, and they are already burning, steaming off in response to the poison. When the boy falls, Rivaille catches him, face drawn to a careful blank, placing his hand on the old bite wound and kneeling on the ground. It is still under his fingers, even as the rest of Eren's body proceeds to steam.

The boy laughs, the sound choked by pain and the dying before it leaves his throat, "You changed the subject. Why did you make that face when you turned around? It looked weird." Eren lifts one hand to place it against Rivaille's hand, the one wrapped around Eren's neck. It is too hot, but Rivaille doesn't remove it.

Eren closes his eyes, smiling slightly as he coughs, "I still liked it though, don't worry. Hope looks good on you."

Rivaille tightens his fingers around Eren's too still neck, to silence the words that aren't supposed to cut and leave a deep scar anyways.

"When I turned around," Rivaille starts, fingers breaking through the skin to the hollow inside of Eren's neck, the final evidence that Rivaille doesn't want to find. Eren opens his eyes.

"I thought I saw you breathing."


End file.
